


Rhythm of the Waves

by overthejune



Series: His Love, His Heart, His Dream [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29054040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overthejune/pseuds/overthejune
Summary: "My vows to you, Clay, are simpleI promise to be true to you in good times and badIn sickness and in healthI will love and honor you all the days of my life"George reminisces about his relationship with Clay while reciting his vows to his beloved.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: His Love, His Heart, His Dream [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130807
Comments: 11
Kudos: 154





	Rhythm of the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> _I recommend reading **[Part 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044356)** for better clarity of the story._  
> 
> 
> *Subtly wipes a tear from her eye*, sighs, they grow up so fast. No seriously though, these characters are my absolute babies. When I first wrote George, he was a sad, timid, insecure little bean, and now he's getting married.  
> AND you get to see Clay in a new light.  
> Okay, enough spoilers. I hope this lives up to your expectations!
> 
> If Dream and/or George ever change their mind about shipping and fanfiction, I will not hesitate to take this down :)
> 
> Enjoy <3

George knew of rapid heartbeats. Shortness of breath. The sting in the air that pricked his skin. The wind slapped against his cheeks.  
The people he had walked past mere seconds ago were now blurred in the corner of his eyes. His entire family was here - his mum, his dad, his stepdad, his two brothers.

It was surreal.

Clay was standing in front of him in an emerald green suit to match his enchanting jade eyes. A white rose in his breast pocket to match his shirt. His silken blond hair was pulled back into a bun like the day they had met.  
Two well-intentioned curls had been left out to frame his face.

A year ago, this all would have been a dream.

_Pinch yourself, George. You’re going to wake up. Because a day this beautiful, it couldn’t possibly be for you._

He silenced the voice. This day _was_ for him. And Clay. 

“I understand you have prepared your own vows.”  
George could never spend this long looking into Clay’s eyes. He would drown in their fineness. Lost like wood adrift on an ocean.

That made him think of something his mum told him once. Finding love is like being a blind turtle swimming aimlessly in the vast ocean, and then bumping into a plank of wood also floating aimlessly in the vast ocean.

He had been a blind turtle drowning that day he walked into the tattoo parlor.  
He had been a sixteen-year-old boy holding a world inside him that he didn’t dare show. Because who would want to see the carnage of torn buildings and screaming souls?

“George, would you like to go first?”

A scramble of paper. A hushing in the crowd. Even the wind stopped.  
George snapped himself away from Clay’s eyes, trying to focus on his own haphazardly scrawled words. Then looked back at Clay, who was smiling at him like he had stolen the sun’s radiance.

“I um…” Dear lord, he was blanking out. George cleared his throat. “Ever since I was young, people have told me that I am good with words, and I guess I am, but that’s only when I tell the stories of made-up people. I tried to make this a poem, but you know how hopeless I am at that.”

Clay laughed, the tears already blossoming at the corners of his eyes.  
Who knew he would cry first.

“My vows to you, Clay, are simple.”

*

_“I promise to be true to you in good times and bad…”_

George tried to cover the smell of smoke on him with Clay’s extra-strong cologne. He wore it when he went out to see friends, never around George because he despised it.

He knew Clay was going to be disappointed. He had been doing so well. Went a full month without smoking a single cigarette. But the stress of interviews and trying to find a job had finally gotten to him.

They could barely scrape together enough money to pay the rent, let alone their bills, with Clay’s job as a tattoo artist and George working for minimum wage at their local convenience store.

He had tried to break his smoking habit more times than he could count on his fingers.

Trust him, he knew all the health issues that smoking could cause. It always told him so on the packaging, along with the picture of a smoker’s blackened lungs.  
Yet, not even that or the ridiculous price of a pack of cigarettes had deterred George.  
He was trying to break the habit because Clay now refused to come near him when he stunk of smoke.

“Are you wearing my cologne?” Clay asked, wrinkling his nose.  
“Yes,” George replied. “I thought I would try it.”  
“You hate it,” Clay said. “Your breath stinks of smoke.”  
George sunk against their kitchen counter, dejected. “Fine, I smoked one cigarette.”  
“One?”  
“Fine, maybe two… or three.” His stomach was tying itself into knots. The disappointment on Clay’s face. He had been doing so well, and he ruined it.  
Clay’s cool fingers graced his cheek. “Tell me what’s going on.”  
“I… I didn’t mean to. I just got it out of the drawer somehow and I went outside and before I even knew it, I had already lit it. I’m sorry.”  
“I wasn’t asking about that,” Clay said, looking George in the eye. That always made him nervous. “You only smoke when you’re stressed.”  
“I can’t find a job,” George finally said. “All the places are rejecting me because I don’t have the right qualifications, or whatever other reason.”  
“Finding a job takes time,” Clay said.  
“Time we don’t have.” George broke away from Clay. “Our bills are overdue. We can barely pay rent. We’ll get evicted.”  
“Then, we’ll find somewhere else.”

George wiped the tears away frustratingly.  
Sad commercials made Clay cry. Stress made George cry.  
And it made him pick fights where they weren’t warranted.

“I can’t do this. Don’t you want someone that can find a fucking job, and not feed off your money like some parasite?”  
“George, it was only a few cigarettes,” Clay said. “You’re not a parasite. You think money is all I care about? Even if we end up on the streets with our dog that we can’t take care of, it wouldn’t matter, because you’re the only thing I care about.”  
More tears came tumbling down. Of course Clay had to be so sappy all the time.  
George sniffed into the tissue. “We don’t have a dog.”  
“Exactly,” Clay said. “So come here.”

George pressed his damp cheek to Clay’s chest, arms wrapping around his waist. All the balled-up stress in him was finally untangling itself, his muscles relaxing.  
They hugged for a while, but Clay pulled away first with a distasteful expression. “Yeah, you’re right, that cologne is quite atrocious.”  
“I’ll go and take a shower,” George said.  
Clay smirked. “You want me to join you?”  
“You need to make dinner.”  
Because if Clay joined him in the shower, they would definitely be having no dinner or an extremely late one. 

*

_“In sickness and in health…”_

If George could think of one word to describe Clay… well, he wouldn’t be able to because there were so many.

Calm like water to his fire.  
Sweet in the small gestures, of knowing exactly how much sugar George liked in his coffee.  
Patient in the way of his art, the perfection of every line.  
Beautiful.  
There wasn’t much that needed to be said about that.

His smooth skin, soft lips, and amber eyes, only for George, that unlocked something so deep in his soul. The tattoos that graced his body made him living, breathing artwork.

But even if he didn’t have all of that. Even if he was just a blank canvas. Clay had a heart that was simply… good.  
He went through life with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, rippling happiness to everyone around him.

However, at the end of the day, Clay was only human.  
He had days when he didn’t smile as much. He had days when he didn’t want to draw. He had days when he looked in the mirror and saw nothing of the beauty within himself.

Sometimes it was only a few hours, a few days. Other times, it was weeks and maybe months.  
Sometimes, getting in the car to go to work was hard. Other times, getting out of bed was hard.

George sat down on the bed, where Clay was huddled under the blanket. “Nick is calling to ask about you,” he said.  
“Tell him to fuck off.”

This wasn’t Clay. Nick was one of his best friends, he would never say that to him.

“Clay… tell me what you need,” George said. “I’m here, okay? I’m not going to leave.” He carded his fingers through Clay’s hair. Knotted and tangled from lack of care.  
“I don’t need anything, I’m just… being pathetic.”  
“No, Clay,” George caressed his cheek. “Don’t say that.” He got beneath the blankets and cradled Clay in his arms.

George knew that feeling when it was all too much. When getting out of bed to face the day was impossible. It took him a long time to realize that it wasn’t weakness that held him down, it was simply because he had tried to be strong for far too long.

Even those who were strong needed to be held, reminded that they were loved when they could not love themselves.

 _If only you could know all the things you are to me, Clay._  
George pressed a kiss to his forehead.

_You are my rock, my heart, my dream, my Clay…  
And you will never be anything less._

*

_“I will love and honor you all the days of my life.”_

George finally got a morning where he could just sit down on the couch and read. Clay was out buying groceries and was certainly taking his sweet time about it.  
He was nearing the end of the final chapter when his phone rang.

“It’s twelve o’clock, Clay,” George said. He had left at nine. He doubted grocery shopping took three hours. “You better be getting home.”  
“I’m at the beach,” Clay said. “You should come, there’s no people here today.”

It was only a five-minute walk to the beach, but neither of them had been in a long time.

The waves were calm, only foaming gently on the sand, washing away the last remnants of a child’s sandcastle. The air was brisk, wrung with the salt sea breeze, carrying the scent of something floral.

Clay sat on the sand with his feet in the water. George took off his shoes and socks to join him.

“Remember our first time?”  
George’s cheeks reddened. “Uh, of course.” It wasn’t exactly something he would forget. The way Clay’s body had felt pressed against his, how their hips had rocked in rhythm…

“Not that first time,” Clay said, laughing. “I mean, our first time here.”

That was so many years ago, had to be ten now. They had both been mere children. Stumbling through life, trying to figure out how everything worked.  
They had kissed to the gentle sound of the waves, offering them a blissful escape from life’s ruckus.

George rolled his pants up, looking up at the clear Clay sky, as he walked into the waves. “We laid on the sand until it was night, I asked you about your tattoos, and we counted the stars.”  
“You make it sound so poetic,” Clay said.  
“It was,” George said. “We were two characters straight out of a poem.”  
“Does that poem have a happy ending?”

The water was cool against his ankles, the sand soft beneath his feet.  
“I would like it to.”  
“Then turn around.”

George’s breath hitched at the sight before him. Clay was kneeling on one knee in the waves, holding a ring so small and glistening.

“Clay…”  
“George,” he said. “When we first set foot on this beach, it was against the law for us to marry, not that we need marriage to prove our love to each other, but you know how much I love weddings, and it broke my heart when I was told that if I was going to love another man, then I couldn’t have my own wedding. But that’s changed now.”

Tears were pouring down George’s face like incessant rain.

“So, George, will you marry me?”

It was impossible for George to form words in that moment. He just rushed forward, the waves pushed against his legs. He flung his arms around Clay, not knowing why he was crying so much.

He could hear Clay’s melodious laugh over his sobbing.  
“So, is that a yes?” he asked.

George nodded into Clay’s shoulder. “Yes,” he mumbled, then another, “Yes,” this time with more surety. There were a lot of times in his life where he was uncertain. But in that moment, the horizon could have echoed with those three letters. 

It took him a few more minutes to compose himself. Clay took George’s hand into his and slipped the ring onto his finger.  
It fit perfectly.

There was no doubt in it. Clay was the one George wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

*

_"But oh, love  
you are all metaphor  
to me  
my kind of golden sunset  
shining on the horizon  
of my restless sea_

 _And I am your weary sailor  
lost in the twilight  
of your beauty"_

George lowered the piece of paper. “That is all,” he said. “I promise to keep to these vows, because, I-I love you so much.”

Clay gave him a teary-eyed smile. “I love you so much too.”

*

“It was so beautiful, George,” his mum, Celia, said as she wiped the moisture from her eyes.

George took a deep breath. “I was scared that you wouldn’t come,” he admitted.  
He had almost spent his entire night before worrying about it.

Celia furrowed her brow. “Why would you think that?”  
“Because, I don’t know, I had a voice in the back of my head telling me that… you haven’t really accepted me for what I am.”

Celia just pulled him into her arms. It was so familiar and safe and warm. A mother’s embrace.

She broke away, stroking her thumbs along his cheekbones. “I haven’t accepted you for what you are, George,” Celia said. “I have accepted you for who you are.” A glitter sparkled in her eyes. “Whenever you are around Clay, the way you look at him, how your entire face lights up, that is what every mother wants to see. I wouldn’t have missed your wedding for the world.”

“Thank you, Mama,” George said. “Thank you.”

*

Alex passed George a glass of champagne. “I see Clay really outdid himself,” he said.

The first moment he got, George had asked Alex to be his best man. Of course, he had done an outstanding job. Gosh, how long had they been friends? They met when they were ten one fated day in the park.  
That was sixteen years ago.

“I just let him do his thing,” George said. For months now, Clay had been running around doing the wedding planning. He let George help, but most of the time George didn’t really know what was going on. “I chose his suit though.”

They both looked to where Clay was sorting out the food.

“It’s a great color on him,” Alex said.  
“I know,” George said with a grin. He took a sip of the champagne, even though the guests hadn’t even arrived yet.  
“He plan out your honeymoon too?”  
“We’re taking a road trip up the coast, Clay found a nice cottage by the sea.”

George could imagine it. Them driving with their window down, letting in the cool breeze and the roaring of the waves. They could eat fish and chips by the beach while shooing away seagulls. Watching how the clouds changed in the sky.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” George said to his best friend.  
“I’ll always be here,” Alex said.

Their champagne glasses met with a clink. 

*

Everything was lit up in celebration.

Clay’s hands were on George’s waist, sturdy and sure, as they swayed along to the music. George had majorly objected to slow dancing, but Clay made it clear that he was not getting out of it.

“We should dance in the living room,” Clay said.  
“We can do that when we’re old,” George said. “We’re not old yet.”

It was crazy to think about though. One day, when their vision was blurry and their limbs were failing, would they still remember this day?

George shook his head. It was his wedding. Most people only got one of those, so he didn’t need to think about the future.  
This, right here, right now, with Clay, was all he needed.

They were just two people dancing in a room filled with those they loved.  
But within the two of them.

Entire worlds waiting to be discovered.

**Author's Note:**

> so yah  
> This is the end, folks.  
> Thanks to everyone who was here for part one, and thanks to everyone who is new. Istg I have NEVER put this much effort into any of my school creative writing assignments than I did in these two oneshots, and all the little appreciation meant a lot :') 
> 
> Please leave a comment, I would love to know what you thought of this.  
> Criticism and suggestions are always welcome, too!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/OverTheJune)


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